Touched for the Very First Time
by coffeebuddha
Summary: Things take a turn for the interesting after Shawn helps a drunk Lassie get home from the bar. Set during 1x10, From the Earth to the Starbucks.


For half a second, Shawn considers just pointing the bartender toward Lassie's prone form and taking off, but even he realizes that would be a little too low. So, instead, he carefully pours a glass of water over his face, and when Lassie sputters and more or less comes to, helps him to his feet. It's harder than it sounds-Lassie's all long, awkward limbs that are way too easy to get tangled up in or trip over-and Shawn's ready to dump him in a cab and head back inside when he spots the Crown Vic in the parking lot. Because that car is Lassie's _baby_, and he can't think of many things that would piss the other man off more than knowing that Shawn was driving it.

He fishes the keys out of Lassie's pocket , redirects him to the passenger's side when he tries to get behind the wheel, and half listens to Lassie mumbling as he readjusts the seat and changes all of the radio presets. Lassie can't quite seem to remember where he lives, so there's an awkward moment when Shawn rummages through his pockets to find his wallet, but after that it's almost pleasant, especially when Lassie starts belting along with Like a Virgin. Especially since Shawn managed to get his phone out in time to get most of the performance on video. _Especially_ since he also managed to get Lassie's phone away from him long enough to memorize most of his address book.

There's a nasty mark starting to form on Lassie's forehead by the time Shawn manhandles him up the walk into his house, and since he has to wait for the cab anyway, he leaves Lassie on the couch while he puts together an icepack. Lassie hisses when the pack first touches his skin, but he holds it there obediently when Shawn tells him to.

"You know, you're a pretty good guy." It should be at least a little insulting that Lassie manages to make that sound surprising, but his eyes are warm, if a little unfocused, and there's nothing feigned in his small, crooked smile.

"Thanks," Shawn says as he flops down on the couch and checks his watch. Only a few more minutes until the cab's supposed to get here. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Lassie slumps down against his side and looks up at him with earnest blue eyes.

"I'm serious, Spencer. Shawn." Lassie frowns, shakes his head a little. "Spencer. You're okay. You're being nice to me. Most people wouldn't." Shawn watches him warily, waiting for the 'but' that's clearly supposed to follow any compliment Lassie gives him. Instead, Lassie nuzzles-nuzzles!- the side of his neck, inhaling deeply. "Plus, you smell really nice. But not like pineapples. I've always expected you to smell like pineapples."

Which implies that Lassie's thought about the way he smells before, and Shawn has no idea what to do with that. He's so caught in trying to wrap his brain around the thought, that he doesn't notice Lassie's lifted his head and is sort of _looking_ at him until it's too late, and then there's nothing to do but silently freak out because Lassie's kissing him and he _doesn't not like it_. In fact, he doesn't not like it so much that he kisses him back. It's all wet and warm and the perfect amount of pressure and slide, and if that whole detective thing really doesn't work out he can always open a kissing booth, because _hot damn_ is the man good. There are probably ethical questions to consider about the whole 'kissing drunk Lassie' thing, but that's the sort of stuff he usually leaves to Gus, and Lassie's the one who started it, so he pushes that to the back of his brain, grabs an armful of slightly sloshed detective, and tries not to whimper too loudly when Lassie sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and bites down.

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Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

Written as part of the daily drabble exercise I do over on my LJ. Answers the prompt "Shawn/Lassie. First kiss."


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